


The boy with the thorn in his side

by ninemoons42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Inception (2010)
Genre: Chocobos, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/pseuds/ninemoons42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry actually is his father's son, and how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The boy with the thorn in his side

  
title: The boy with the thorn in his side  
author: [](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**ninemoons42**](http://ninemoons42.dreamwidth.org/)  
characters: Dom and the Cobblets, Arthur, Eames, Boco, and Harry  
warnings: And with this second fic in the series we now have a Harry-verse. This fic picks up some time after the events of [My heart is walking around outside my body, and you've caught it](http://archiveofourown.org/works/189355). Thanks so much to everyone who asked for a sequel to the original kidfic.  
This one is a little darker, and is written primarily from Harry's point of view.  
disclaimer: I don't own the original story or the characters. Not making any profit, just playing in the sandbox.  
summary: Harry actually is his father's son, and how.

  
Boco was missing when Harry woke up. Faraway birdsong, summer sun already on its way.

It was a good thing that he always knew where Boco was. All he needed to do was to look under his bed. Blue eyes staring back at him.

Harry dusted off the bird and its book. "Sorry, Boco," he said, sincerely, and he kissed the top of his head before clambering out of bed.

Boco was tucked safely in the crook of his arm as he ventured out of his room in search of breakfast.

The house was still dark, and the floor was cold under his bare feet. But there was music in the house, coming from the kitchen, and he hurried toward it, and pushed open the door with a cheerful "Morning, Dad!"

And then his father looked at him, and the smile fell off Harry's face.

Dad looked tired, looked like he'd been crying, looked like hell.

[Harry was only allowed to use that word under his father's strict supervision.]

"Dad?" And Harry came closer, slowly. Boco was back in his arms for some reason, and he was squeezing him hard. Harry was scared, now; he couldn't ever remember seeing his father look so unhappy. "Dad, what's wrong?"

His father pulled him in close, and that should have made him feel better; Dad gave the best hugs in the world, and he always felt safe when his father was holding him tightly. But Dad's arms and shoulders were shaking as he kissed Harry, as he kissed Boco.

Finally, Harry was being held out at arm's length and his father was looking at him very seriously. "Harry?"

"Dad?"

His father was crying, and it was so hard to watch him with all of his emotions plain on his face. Oh, Dad loved to smile at him, loved to look all serious when he was teaching Harry math and science, loved to make funny facial expressions when they were reading together before bedtime - but tears, tears were different. Tears were new, and scary.

"Dad, what's wrong?"

"Harry...Stuart is in trouble. I have to go and find him."

Stuart! Stuart, his friend; Stuart, who told him the funny adventures of Boco and his pet human. Stuart who talked funny, but who made Harry's Dad smile so much that sometimes it was hard to see his eyes. Stuart, who was always ready with a grin and a hug.

Stuart wasn't okay? Harry felt something in his chest pinch, like a sharp kind of hurt. But Stuart had promised he'd return quickly; he only had to visit a place called "Mombasa".

"For the last time," he had said, the last time he'd visited Harry and his Dad. "And after that, I'm staying here, with you, if the two of you will have me."

Now Harry wanted to cry; now he wanted to break things. He even wanted to throw Boco, now, and he would never do that to his favorite.

But Harry swallowed all of his feelings, ignored the tears sliding down his cheeks, and looked up at his father. His Dad, who could do anything: teach a multiplication table, bake Madeira cake, talk about dragons, save the world. "You're leaving soon?"

"I was just waiting for you to wake up. I wanted you to know, I wanted to be sure you understood - that I didn't leave you, that I'd be coming back."

And Harry threw himself at his father, then; he let himself cry. "You - you'll come back? You'll bring Stuart back?"

His father said, shaky, "I'll do my best." He was wiping away his own tears, wiping away Harry's tears, kissing Harry on his forehead. "I'll do my best to find him and bring him back home. I promise."

///

"Hello, Harry. I'm Dom, your father's friend. And these are Philippa and James, my children. Will you mind it very much if we come and stay with you, while your father's away?"

Harry looked between the man with the kind blue eyes and his babysitter, looked carefully at the two children standing in the door.

"You know my father?" Harry said.

"Yes."

And Harry nodded, and said, gravely, "Please come in."

"My name is Philippa," the girl said, and her eyes were dark brown, like the chocolate Harry's Dad liked to eat after dinner. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Harry."

"Like Potter?" the boy asked. He had his father's blue eyes.

Harry sighed - Stuart knew how tired he already was of all the Harry Potter jokes - but he nodded politely. "Yes."

"James," Philippa said, suddenly, sharply, "apologize."

"I didn't do anything wrong," James said.

"You made a joke about his name. We don't do that, remember? Papa said?"

"Oh - I didn't think," the boy said. And he held out his hand. "Sorry, Harry. I'll try to remember. I won't do it again."

"Okay." And Harry offered Philippa his favorite toy. "Would you like to meet my friend? This is Boco." He shook the toy at her, and said, "Kweh!"

"He's cute!" Philippa said. "What is he?"

"A chocobo."

"Like Ariadne's?" James asked. "Papa has a friend with lots of cho-co-bos. She makes them all go kweh."

"Ooh, you're right, James," Philippa said. "Maybe you can meet her sometime, Harry. She has chocobos dressed in all kinds of costumes."

Harry smiled, then, and he dragged the other two children off to his room to play.

///

Harry was sitting patiently as Philippa fussed over his hair, when there was a loud knock at the door.

He nearly fell out of his chair in shock, and he and Philippa and James tore out of his room, a thunderous sound of running feet.

Dom Cobb was at the door, one hand closed around something dark - _Gun, he's holding a gun,_ Harry's mind supplied - and one hand on the doorknob, and he sounded like Harry's Dad sometimes did when something was wrong with the world. "Who's there?!"

"Dom, open up."

"DAD!" Harry yelled, and he pushed Dom Cobb's hand out of the way, fingers fumbling as he undid all of the locks, threw the door open. "DAD! ...Stuart?!"

And his father was there, with red stuff all over his face and his shirt. He was holding Stuart up with one arm.

Stuart's eyes were closed.

"STUART!" Harry yelled, and latched on to his hand. "Stuart?"

"Let him go, Harry," his Dad said, suddenly. "Stuart is hurt, and we need to look after him."

Harry dropped Stuart's hand and ran to stand with Philippa and James. Their hands were warm around his.

///

Stuart slept for six days.

Dom Cobb and Philippa and James left the house on the third day. Harry promised them that he would take care of Stuart.

Harry's Dad would gently shoo him out of the big bedroom when it was time to change Stuart's bandages - and the rest of the time, Harry simply sat next to Stuart, holding his right hand, while his Dad sat on Stuart's left side and watched over both of them.

Boco was on Stuart's chest, now, and neither Harry nor his father left the bedroom except when necessary. They would eat on the floor and his Dad would take away the dishes when they were done - but neither of them seemed to have much appetite.

Harry's Dad had fallen asleep on the morning of the sixth day. Harry was putting his small blanket around his father's shoulders when he heard a deep breath, and he turned around in a hurry, to Stuart's eyes, wide open and looking straight at him.

He watched as Stuart smiled, and put a bandaged finger over his mouth, and whispered, "Good work, sprog. You okay?"

"Stuart," Harry whispered, and he was climbing onto the bed and grabbing Boco and shaking him in Stuart's face. "I missed you. I was thinking about you. You scared me, you scared Dad."

"I know, Harry, and I'm sorry." Stuart looked sad and sick, and he kissed Boco's head and Harry's cheek. "Shouldn't have made you worry."

"What happened to you in that place? Monbaza?"

"Mombasa. Some bad people were waiting for me there. They wanted me to work for them, because they had a friend of mine."

"Did you do what they say?"

But the answer came from Harry's Dad: "No, and I'm glad he didn't. Hello, Eames."

"Hello, Arthur," Stuart said.

"Dad," Harry said, and held out his arms. And he felt his father pull him in for an embrace, heard his father's heartbeat - even as he was still sitting next to Stuart, even as he could hear the steady sounds of Stuart's breathing.

"Hey, now, don't leave me out," Stuart was saying, and he was making a soft kind of weak laughter - but now he was smiling, and that made Harry smile.

Harry's Dad climbed into the big bed and moved everyone around so that Harry was tucked in between him and Stuart. Stuart passed Boco back to Harry, and Harry happily cuddled the chocobo, curled in between them so his back was against Stuart and his hands were touching his father's arm.

Harry yawned, and managed to watch his Dad lean over and kiss Stuart on the cheek, touch his forehead to Stuart's, before sleep suddenly took him and he sighed himself down, holding on to Boco and to the two men surrounding him, the men who were his world.

 **fin**   



End file.
